


my lover on my mind

by ofamaranthlie



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: M/M, POV Second Person, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-08
Updated: 2018-09-08
Packaged: 2019-07-08 16:43:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15934403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ofamaranthlie/pseuds/ofamaranthlie
Summary: You would follow him anywhere.





	my lover on my mind

You would follow him anywhere. 

It's a realization that dawns on you, staring at Hawke from across the table at The Hanged Man, more salvation than thought, a singular notion that both thrills and terrifies you. Knowledge so resolute, it becomes ingrained in the core of your being. _You are Fenris. You're no longer a slave. Your lyrium markings will always burn. You will follow Hawke anywhere._

Isabela catches you stare, gives a knowing smirk and lifts her glass. "The lighthouse calls you home."

It does; you will follow him anywhere. 

Later, you will drag your lips across the strong line of his stubbled jaw and repeat those words, a confession and promise. You will sigh into his mouth when he pulls you in for a kiss, like it somehow will make your words realer, more permanent, a secret oath you alone share. 

"I'll take you anywhere," he will say, falling back onto the bed, reaching for you. "Just say the word, Fenris."

You'll take his hand, entwine your fingers as you straddle his hips. "I know you will," you'll say, because  _I love you_  is too small a phrase to encompass the oceanic depths of your feelings for this man, this unshakable force of nature that you're not sure if you deserve but you'll spend your whole life at his side in an effort to find out the truth. 

You seek that grace between his thighs, mapping his battle-worn skin with your hands. And when he arches beneath you, when he pulls your body flush against his until all you can do is clutch to him and pant against his neck, your soul feels lighter than you ever remember it. You don't believe in gods or much of anything, but you do believe in Hawke: the rise and fall of his broad chest, the way he says your name like it's something more precious than gold, the way he makes your body come alive, answering the gravitational call of his flesh and soul with your own. 

You take him and he takes you, and the night melts into a haze of pleasure, gripping sweat-slick skin and breathing each other's names like prayer, like you're trying to prove a point. After, when you're catching your breath, you tuck messy, damp strands of his dark hair from his face, and he catches your wrist, presses a kiss there that makes your pulse quicken. 

"Stay," he asks, and you can see the unspoken  _always_ in his eyes, a gilded light that you answer more with the wild beat of your heart than you do the soft nod of your head.

There's love dripping from his lips like wine when he kisses you goodnight, and your fingers spell words of devotion down his bare arms as they wrap around you, keeping you close.

And through it all, your blood sings the eternal praise, the undeniable truth:  _anywhere, always._


End file.
